


Jangle His Bells

by Piddleyfangs



Category: Bravely Default: Flying Fairy
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Gift, Love, Strip Tease, i guess, sexy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2347070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piddleyfangs/pseuds/Piddleyfangs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ringabel conceptualizes a birthday, hence Edea figures it the perfect place to mess with him via lot's of sexual suggestiveness. No sex to be found here though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jangle His Bells

**Author's Note:**

> I don't feel all too entirely proud of this in the end, and I know for sure it could use some more. I will be giving it an alternative ending. As well, I will be writing plenty more Bravely Default as time progresses.

Jangle His Bells

 

Grandship was lost to the hustle and bustle of preparations. The massive ship was lost to the hype for a certain pilot’s birthday. Ringabel didn’t remember his actual birthday, but he would hate to miss out on a chance to celebrate something conceivable as another year older. He had decided this particular date to be a day of peculiar interest to him, and after everyone decided it wasn’t just so near as to just be a cheap attempt to cash in on sympathy and gifts, the group agreed that Ringabel would be celebrated whenever this day did come. And behold, the day did arrive and the occupants of Grandship were in a happy bustle to celebrate the “birth” day of Ringabel.

In many ways, the group owed him plenty. Whilst his womanizing ways could be misshapen to resemble an ugly trait that dominated his every action, he was many times a voice of calm rationale and fast thinking. Always a wit despite his bluntness in his pursuit of feminine company, the team has come to appreciate the man and all his ridiculous volumes of hair. Tiz slipped into the inn that lay in the belly of the massive ship. Edea and Agnes sat on the side of a humble bed, awaiting Tiz to join them in their planning phases of the party. “I just got done talking to everyone. The Proprietress has a hearty meal planned. She said it’s going to be a spicy one, so we should stock up on milk when we go to get the last round of supplies.” Both girls nodded Agnes’s hands on her knees as she sat at attention whilst Edea took a much more casual approach to the concept of sitting. 

“Should be a simple task for us.” Agnes says, a nod of the head following this. “I still have yet to acquire the proper gift for Ringabel, and I’m afraid I really wouldn’t know what to get him.”

“I got him a jar of pickled hot peppers and a new comb.” Tiz says. “I figured he would at least want something he could keep for a while and put sentimental value into him.” Tiz had figured one of the things a man with amnesia would need is something to stake some caring and familiarity into. Tiz could relate to Ringabel in a way, since they both sort of had nothing to return to, and he was grateful for this group for giving him a new settlement of friends to belong to. “Maybe when we go to get the milk I could help you pick something out for him?”

“That would be splendid Tiz.” Agnes grinned, rising gently from her seat. “What about you Edea? Did you retrieve anything yet for Ringabel.”

“You could say that.” Edea hardly moved too far from her current lounging position, turning her head to look towards the two much more clearly. “I have a gift all ready for him. I am pretty sure it’ll be something he should find satisfaction with.” If spoken to a less naïve pair, Edea’s intentions would be made clear, but Agnes and Tiz were simply scanning to hear that Edea did have some plans. Besides, they were seeking their own time alone anyways. 

“Alright, Edea. We’ll head over and get landing soon.” Tiz said. Agnes and Tiz made way to leave the room, leaving Edea to her own devices. They all had settled in Grandship at this point, and this particular room of the inn was serving as Edea’s room. She had hardly decorated. She hung the sword her master had gifted her, as well as gather a few of her favored tomes for the sake of rereading. Despite the speed of the gifted vessel, many a night would pass with not but the ceaseless rocking of the airborne cradle and the familiar hum of airship engines to lull Edea to sleep. Reading old books made it feel like home in a way, the sheets of her bed somehow able to capture the old magic of lying in her own room and thinking about the night and how nice it was to be indoors and warm. She was capable of spending much of her life warm, some might even consider her spoiled. This made it a tad tricky for her to think of a gift for Ringabel.

She was considering something material, maybe some trashy romance novel, but the thought came he has already lived every trashy romance novel to be composed to this date. He writes letters, keeping in contact with promising maidens. He makes detours to stop near some village where a sweet virgin with curtains of black hair would gasp to run out and meet him. The scenes were sickening, and Edea felt no desire to see if she could convince him he should also consume his life with reading about the arts of being a perverted woman lover. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling his gift should at least have some barring to his adoration for women. 

Tiz and Agnes were bound to have his innocent interests at heart. Tiz already had something for his taste for spicy food and something to help him with his ridiculous hair. Agnes was bound to catch some dashing attire or some humble bag to carry his journal in to replace the old one that was coming to tatters under the weight of the herbs and potions that made company with his novel in the same satchel. As well, Edea and Ringabel were forming something of a gravity to one another, pulled by some force to spend copious amounts of time with one another. They were finding ways to talk the whole night away. He listened to her philosophy and offered his rationale. He was a fair argument, and he was one of the least aggravating devil’s advocates Edea had ever spoken to, and for such a stubborn girl that was an achievement of companionship indeed. 

That said, there was a concept Edea had. She was hormonal, and Ringabel was easily flustered when Edea showed any sort of interest. He hadn’t the guts to follow through with a date, and Edea found the concept unbearably hot. She was the heart throb to a desensitized womanizer, a man who could hold out his arms in a crowded town and touch two women he had dated. She stopped the train right in its tracks. What she wanted more than anything was to see the train explode, burst into flames, and scorch the entire tracks into a molten pile of iron. What she was going to do was strip tease Ringabel. 

He got flustered over the idea of a date. A DATE. The idea of nervously sitting in a café on the pretense of affection with Edea made the man blush and sweat and turn his head with a barraging wall of excuses. So, imagine if he was suddenly presented with the girl of his golden desires presenting her sleekest curves to him with playful intentions as the clothes around her just seemingly fall? Poor bastard wouldn’t even stand a chance. And that was what excited Edea about the concept, but there was a wider half to her that would not allow such plans go off without review of her planned actions. She was just going to give the lecherous fool everything he could ever want easier than butter melts in a pan. She blushed like little red bulbs were in her cheeks. She was frustrated, but she had already put her stubbornness towards this goal. If anything, she’d have to do it before Agnes and Tiz come back. The party could end at any time at all, and it would be more suspicious to pull Ringabel away than it would be to just get him before the thing even starts. With that in mind, Edea rushes over to his quarters. 

…

Ringabel was the pilot of Grandship more often than not. Many capable pilots were onboard, but he just found it relaxing to be at the helm. On his birthday, he was taking a respite from this. Someone else was landing the ship for Tiz and Agnes to get supplies. He spent his time applying a few notes to the D’s journal, adding relevant notes to the section on him, adding his thoughts and feelings on the prospect of having a birthday. He found some fun in speculating on what gifts he may receive. From Agnes he expected something thoughtful, from Tiz something practical, and from Edea something with a hint of spite and yet appreciable all the same. He also took note on how he hadn’t informed any of his dates about his special day. Oh well, it would take too long to let them know, and today was more dedicated to the tightly knit group than the wide net. Ringabel set his journal on his end table, the boy sitting in his armchair as Edea came in. “Ah, Edea. I heard you hadn’t gone with the other two. Do you have any birthday wishes to give me? Perhaps you simply came to grace me with your heavenly appearance?” 

That was why she was here. “Ringabel.” Edea felt her lips make little shapes she never found the good excuse to make before. They were soft and supple, morphing to the subtle shape of every vowel. “I thought a looong time about what to give you for your special day.” She almost gagged. She thought too hard about what to say when breaking into this. Reality was catching up. Her cheeks were getting rosy, the subtle sway of her hips were breaking rhythm. Why did she research what sort of things girls say when they do these dances? The tomes were so disgusting, she was revolted immediately. “-Now just sit back, and don’t you dare say anything. I-I’m doing this because I think you deserve it for being nice.” The script was fluid, and she broke it as her nerves demanded. There, it felt much better now. His eyes were vacant as her hands ran down across his waist, rubbing against her broad hips and thick thighs, slipping back up to hook around her skirt. He was speechless, and as red as bloody tomato. 

Her skirt fell below her knees. Her top’s strings were loosened. Her white tights were dropped from her legs, a challenge for her massive thighs. What lay beneath was the unmistakable shape of the bravo bikini. The white pedals loosely cupped around her breast, her mounds free to rest against the shapeable fabrics. Her loins were covered by a mere pressing cloth and a low hanging strap for the attire. She rolled her hips, her midriff contorting, lines shifting on her stomach, her naval sliding with her movement, contorting and closing. Ringabel shivered, his hands were tied to the armrests of his chair, his digits dug into the wood it was made of. “E-E-Edea! W-W-What is thi-“

“Just be quiet. I mean, you don’t need to make a fuss. This is what you want isn’t it?” She grinned. It brought her original goal back to mind. To see the poor guy flustered, to watch him shiver in a new form of forced innocence, as his lustful quest was met with generous gifts he could never anticipate the degree of. This was what she wanted, and this is what brought her to throb her rear in his face. The bikini showed the crevice were the separating of her cheeks began. Her rear was massive, and had a surprising amount of jiggle, which the bikini made no effort to hide, perhaps the white attire even accentuating the way it moved and the girth of it. It even seemed to loosen a little under the force of her movement. She kept to her jiggling, the sounds or Ringabel muttering hazy declarations lost under the heat of his breath. Edea’s royal ass thundered with one mighty throb, and the bikini bottom floated right off.

The article landed right onto Ringabel’s lap. He turned his head down, his hand vibrating inches above the rest like a hovering ship ready to explode. He turned his head up just in time to see Edea had turned with haste to prevent the look at her nude rear shaking with full force. He gulped, eying visibly downward to her crotch to see a gloved hand made sufficient cover of her loins. “Hey, eyes up oaf!” She retorted. Ringabel almost felt she were sane until he saw she was now leaning inward. Her cleavage leaned down against the loose pedals, like balancing two melons on napkin. They swung and they glistened as Edea softly moved her form back and forth. “I know certainly this is what you’re after!” She said with such a determined tone, she sought for some message, some objective. “I’ll show you just how much better I am than any of those harlots you waste your pg on! I’m a treasured body you know, right?” He nodded, her form only getting closer. He wouldn’t be shamed for thinking he was now just conversing with her breasts. “So that means you’re getting such an exclusive commodity right now. You best be appreciative, for you only get older once a year.” 

She danced her breasts forward, Ringabel’s noise grazing the soft flesh that hung from her chest. He braced for impact that never came. He would almost call the sensual gradualness exciting, well display… practiced. The prospect just occurred to him that she may have been putting this whole thing together for a while! This truly was a gift for him, and one she had been working to make sure was just right. Not that he even thought it was spur of the moment, but it was easy for one to settle on that thought when everything seemed so sudden. With her free hand, she reached to one of the straps of the bikini. It slid down and around, squeezing tightly against the lower portion of her shoulder, a light fold of one of the cups of the bikini peeled away, the succulent tone of areola visible ever so slightly. Edea gave a grin, and before he could respond, his face was full of her rear.

She turned, and just stuck the whole thing there. Such a massive display was made of what was certainly the best asset of Edea’s form. She was no competition for Agnes who trumped her both in cup size and height, but what Edea could always maintain was the lower body to drive any man wild. And her entire lower body was pressed ever so near to Ringabel’s face. He could kiss either fat cheek that could fill any pair of pants. He could see hidden between fat thighs the slightest of pink beginnings of her loins’ lips. He was flustered beyond just a simple shade of red gracing his face, he was blown away into tiny aroused pieces. He wanted to scream, to beg for just a touch. He wanted to sob at her feet, thank her and bless her for her infinite kindness, for looking past all the crap he would present her with on a daily basis. But to do any of that would betray something that mattered to her. She wanted to maintain the teasing dance, no doubt, and so he waited. Her hips shook in erotic ways, fascinating little dances.

The women of Florem would look at her display and call it lewd. Her hips sort of shot at times with a suggestive little jiggle, moving back and forth suddenly. They would press and slap against each other, a curtain peak at what gear laid behind her generous lumps. She turned suddenly, revealing the top of her bikini was removed whilst she was turned. Her face was boiling red, her tongue hung from her mouth; her adorable eyes hung low in sultry concentration. She hung her bare breasts again at Ringabel’s face. They were generous round mounds, dotted in cute dollops nipples, giving her breasts the shape of round whipped cream toppings. Edea pressed her breasts against his forehead, feeling his spiky hair find their place between her breasts. She wanted to, with all heart, wrap her breasts around his pompadour and give it a testing thrust. Though, she sided with not discovering if he had any hidden androgynous zones in silly places. She rolled her hips towards his lap, and landed her naked form against his crotch, her gloved hand tracing against his cheek. “Ringabel.” She whispered, grinning as she planted a kiss on his cheek. She grinded against him, he felt his body melt against her. Every muscle melted against her heated approach. Her moistened loins teased the seat of his pants. She felt his hidden member rise against his pants against his permission, giving a rather un-ceremonial introduction to what he had brewing down there.

Edea considered it over so many times, her lustful eyes and racing pulse were both seductresses in her pits of passion. It was his birthday after all. “You don’t have to go that far yet, Edea.” Ringabel’s words were smooth, focused on the situation. “You don’t need to prove your willingness. You have shown me already how much you care… I am forever grateful, but let’s save that for when you’re sure I am your man.” Edea gulped. She didn’t want to be caught in such an intimate moment, but he had a point. He really did. She took a breath, and she relaxed herself. 

“T-thank you Ringabel. I was starting to get a little carried away. I only wanted to make sure you had a great gift, something to blast away any concept you had of an attractive woman. I guess I was getting a little caught up in the concept.”

“You needn’t worry Edea. I don’t want you to, ahem, put out just because I give the impression I am a man of those interests. You mean more to me than your sex appeal.” He grinned guiltily. “But for sure, your sex appeal is a big part of it all.” Edea wanted to slap him. Eh. She earned at least one slap. She could get away with just this one.


End file.
